The Vicomte De Bragelonne eBook

“That all appears feasible. But what will
be done with regard to the prisoners upon the Place
de Greve?”

“This: they must be thrust into some house
— that will make a siege necessary to get them
out again. And stop! here is another idea, more
sublime still: certain houses have two issues
— one upon the Place, and the other into the
Rue de la Mortellerie, or la Vannerie, or la Tixeranderie.
The prisoners entering by one door will go out at
another.”

“Yes; but fix upon something positive.”

“I am seeking to do so.”

“And I,” cried Fouquet, “I have
found it. Listen to what has occurred to me
at this moment.”

“I am listening.”

Fouquet made a sign to Gourville, who appeared to
understand. “One of my friends lends me
sometimes the keys of a house which he rents, Rue
Baudoyer, the spacious gardens of which extend behind
a certain house on the Place de Greve.”

“This cabaret has windows opening upon
the Place, a place of exit into the court, which must
abut upon the gardens of my friend by a door of communication.”

“Good!” said the abbe.

“Enter by the cabaret, take the prisoners
in; defend the door while you enable them to fly by
the garden and the Place Baudoyer.”

“That is all plain. Monsieur, you would
make an excellent general, like monsieur le prince.”

“Have you understood me?”

“Perfectly well.”

“How much will it amount to, to make your bandits
all drunk with wine, and to satisfy them with gold?”

“Oh, monsieur, what an expression! Oh!
monsieur, if they heard you! some of them are very
susceptible.”

“I mean to say they must be brought to the point
where they cannot tell the heavens from the earth;
for I shall to-morrow contend with the king; and when
I fight I mean to conquer — please to understand.”

“It shall be done, monsieur. Give me your
other ideas.”

“That is your business.”

“Then give me your purse.”

“Gourville, count a hundred thousand livres
for the abbe.”

“Good! and spare nothing, did you not say?”

“Nothing.”

“That is well.”

“Monseigneur,” objected Gourville, “if
this should be known, we should lose our heads.”

“Eh! Gourville,” replied Fouquet,
purple with anger, “you excite my pity.
Speak for yourself, if you please. My head does
not shake in that manner upon my shoulders.
Now, abbe, is everything arranged?”

“Everything.”

“At two o’clock to-morrow.”

“At twelve, because it will be necessary to
prepare our auxiliaries in a secret manner.”